


Beauty and The Beast

by especiallythezefronposter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 00:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/especiallythezefronposter/pseuds/especiallythezefronposter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia was told there was a handsome prince living in the castle. She hadn't expected him to have claws.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty and The Beast

**Author's Note:**

> A Pydia fanfic based on the Wikipedia version of la Belle et la Bête. (it sounded less unprofessional in my head)

Lydia's father had told her the prince, Peter, was handsome, and maybe somewhere he had been right, but everything beautiful about the man was overshadowed by three small features that immediately caught Lydia's eye. His fingers were curled and ended in claws, his canines were dagger-like fangs that flickered in the candlelight and his eyes - his eyes were the brightest blue Lydia had ever seen. When she looked in those eyes, she felt shivery cold, even in the thick coat she was still wearing. In her hands she was holding the red rose her dad had brought from his stay in this castle and when she clenched her fists she felt the thorns pierce the skin of her palms. The sharp pangs of pain cleared her mind and made her stop staring at the prince like a terrified doe.

 _You are a lioness,_ she told herself, _you can handle a man with claws and fangs, you can handle a wolf, because your claws may not be longer and your fangs may not be sharper, but you can shorten his nails and make his teeth blunt and harmless. You are a woman._

She smiled her most dazzling smile at him and turned around, shrugging her coat of her shoulders and waiting for him to take it. 'Thank you for taking my father in, my dear prince, and thank you for the rose,' she told the Beast. Her smile widened as he took the coat after a moment of hesitation, knowing it was the effect of her smile that had caused that. She spun back around. 'Will you show me around in the castle?', she demanded sweetly.

'Of course,' he said with a smile of his own. He held out his arm and started down the hall when she took it. She held him tight, almost leaning against him. 'That,' the Beast said, pointing to a pair of wooden doors. 'is the ballroom. That's where we will have dinner tonight, but I'll show you your chambers first.' He didn't only show her the beautifully furnished rooms she would live in from now on - since this castle was hers, according to the prince - but also a room full of beautiful paintings that Lydia couldn't imagine to be made by a man with such hideous claws, a bath chamber with a huge bath filled with steaming water that smelled like flowers, a garden full of roses, four rooms with tons of books stacked against the walls and a balcony with a view on the darkening forest and the starry sky. They stayed there for a while, leaning against the railing in the cold air and having small talk until Lydia said: 'Those eyes of yours have an odd colour, my dear prince.'

The Beast didn't look away from the horizon, but obviously tensed at her words. 'What colour do they have?', he asked. 'I don't get to see them very often.'

'Blue,' she said, watching his face carefully, not really knowing what reaction she was expecting. Anger, probably. 'The brightest blue I have ever seen.'

He slowly turned to look at her and took both of her hands in his, making sure his sharp nails didn't scratch her. 'What do my teeth look like?', he asked, bringing his face closer to hers. 'And my nails?'

'Fangs and claws,' she said, trying hard not to look as terrified as she felt by how close they were.

He kissed her and before she pushed him away, she kissed him back, her hands snaking around his neck before she put them against his chest and abruptly turned her head away.

She took a few steps back, breathing heavily even though they had only kissed for seconds. 'You shouldn't have done that,' she said, failing miserably at turning the fear in her voice into anger. _You are a lioness,_ she reminded herself, _you are a woman._

He shook his head. 'You don't understand,' he said. 'I haven't always been like this. It was a punishment for a terrible crime I committed, and there is only one person that can free me, the one that truly loves me. You are the first person that can even see my curse and by the next full moon it will become unbreakable. You coming here must mean something.'

'If your crime was that terrible, do you deserve a life without your curse?' She asked, stepping closer and putting a finger on his chest. She had to look up to meet his eyes, because he was much taller than her. His face was hidden in shadows and she could only see the cold glint of his eyes.

He lifted a claw to put his nails against the soft skin of her cheek and his eyes seemed to glow in the darkness surrounding them. 'Can you feel this, Lydia? This curse is turning me into a predator and when the full moon comes, my crimes will be much worse than what I did to deserve this,' he said softly. He brought his teeth to her neck. 'Can you imagine? The strength of a wolf and the cleverness of a man...' His fangs scraped against her skin without leaving a scratch. 'You call me beast, you call me monster, but what will you call me when I kill someone? What will you call yourself if you let that happen?' His lips brushed against her neck and made her shiver, but before she could say anything he slowly straightened and looped his arm in hers once again. 'It's time for dinner,' he said softly, leading her through the corridors, back to the wooden doors. 'I hope you're hungry.'

The ballroom was a huge room, the ceiling so high she had to lay her head back to see the candles in the chandeliers. In the middle of the room stood a table full of all kinds of food. The Beast put a hand on her lower back as he took her to the chair at the head of the table and sat down at her right. While they ate she noticed he avoided all dishes containing meat and that made her wonder if he feared himself and what he was going to become as much as she did. That made it a little harder to hate him for what he looked like, since he seemed to hate himself enough already.

When they had both finished their dessert, Peter stood up. 'Dance with me, my princess,' he said, holding out a hand. She smiled and stood up, holding his hand. They only took a few steps away from the table, but it was all the space they needed. There were no musicians in the castle, so they danced to the rustle of their clothes and the whisper of their voices. They made small movements without a certain pattern and stayed close to each other. The Beast's grip was so delicate, his footsteps so soft, that he made Lydia forget he was a wolf for a second, made her forget she was a lioness. At that moment they were two lambs dancing, and she realized she liked that better, because they could be ripped apart by a predator at any moment, but they wouldn't rip each other apart. She didn't want to die by his hand, but didn't want to kill him, either. They would be better off as lambs, without claws or fangs to hurt each other.

Then the moment was over and he was a wolf again. 'Do you love me?', he asked.

She looked at his shoulder when she answered, 'I don't know.'

'Do you want to marry me?', he went on. For the first time, his voice wasn't the polite but authoritative shield that he used to hide the emotions he felt. It was softer, like he tried to be less of a monster, and more imploring, because they both knew he believed marriage could break his curse.

She looked up at him. 'I have a family, my dear prince, a father and two sisters. If I marry you now I might never see them again. Let me go back to them so I can say my goodbyes.'

He smiled, a glint of anger in his eyes. 'We both know you won't come back if I let you go,' he said as they slowly broke apart. 'Let me walk you back to your chambers.' His voice had gone back to the polite shield and he didn't let her hold his arm as they walked through the corridors. When they were at her door he kissed her goodnight, so softly and carefully she almost didn't feel it.

\-----

In the weeks that followed, Lydia stayed at the castle. She watched Peter paint and take care of the roses and sometimes caught him staring at her as she read in the living room. As time passed by, it became easier to see him as a lamb. She learned to hold his hands without touching his claws and got used to the colour of his eyes. Meanwhile her claws shortened and her teeth went blunt, but she didn't notice, and wouldn't care of she had. _You are better off as lambs,_ she kept telling herself, _you don't need those claws anymore._

Every night after dinner the two of them danced, and every night Peter asked her if she loved him and wanted to marry him. Her answer was always the same as on that first night, but every day his voice changed a little. It wasn't soft and imploring anymore, but hopeful, sweet and a little broken. Every time she rejected him, his eyes would become a little sadder, a little more pained and one night, after he had walked her back to her room, he didn't kiss her goodnight. She knew he had lost hope the next night, when she had told him about her family again and waited for him to take a step back and tell her it was time to go to bed. He didn't. He turned them around in another circle and said, 'The full moon is in seven days. If you leave tomorrow to say goodbye to your family, will you be back by then?'

'Yes,' she answered. 'I promise.' That night she was the one that kissed him before he left her in her chambers and she saw a confused, happy smile cross his face before he turned around and she closed the door.

\-----

The next day she left, accompanied by some of Peter's servants and guards and the roses he had given her. She had kissed him one last time and had felt his hand drift to the ring around her finger, as if making sure she was still wearing it. The fact that she was, was the only reassurance he had that she would ever come back.

The weather was bad and wild animals and outlaws tried to attack them multiple times, slowing them down and making the journey almost a day longer. By the time she finally arrived at her father's house, there were only three days left before she had to leave again, and they flew by. The last day her sisters begged her to stay a little longer, but it was the hopeful look on her old father's face that made her actually do so.

She felt guilty about it and couldn't stop thinking about Peter, but she thought about how much younger her father had looked when she had said she would stay another day, how happy her sisters were and how much she would miss them all when she returned to the castle, and tried her best to enjoy their last day together.

The next morning, they left early and travelled as fast as they could, but they had set off too late and by the time they came back home, the full moon was already shining down on them. She jumped of her horse and ran into the castle. How could she have been so stupid? She had known she would be too late to save him if she stayed with her family any longer, and she had stayed anyway.

She found him in the moonlit rose garden. He lay on his back as if he was sleeping and was covered in fur. His hands and feet looked more like a wolf's paws and his fangs peeked out from under his upperlip. His ears were pointy and located on top of his head. A silver dagger was buried deep in his chest. Lydia kneeled down in the puddle of blood surrounding him. 'Peter,' she gasped. 'Peter, no.' She kissed him, but he didn't wake up. 'I love you, Peter. Don't be dead,' she begged. She rested her forehead against his and started crying when she felt how cold he already was. He had probably killed himself as soon as he started changing, or from the moment he realised she wasn't coming back. She was too late.

But when her tears dripped on his face, the hair slowly disappeared, and so did the fangs and a claws and ears. She knew the curse was broken, and she could imagine his irises were a natural blue underneath his eyelids, but he would never open his eyes again, would never know he was free from his curse.

He would never know she loved him.


End file.
